One Normal Night
by Broadway Wednesday
Summary: What might have happened if Morticia had let Wednesday meet the Beinekes at Lucas' apartment, rather than at the Addams Family Mansion.


**A/N: I wasn't sure if I should post this or not, I sort of felt like the plot was going haywire. So please feel free to offer any advice at all.  
And I'm going to try and update Where Did We Go Wrong before the end of this week, hopefully. I'm about halfway through the next chapter. Life got in the way. Don't you hate it when that happens?  
As with everyone else on this website (I assume), I do not own the Addams Family.**

"Listen, I won't be home for dinner Friday," Wednesday informed her mother.

"Why, Darling?" asked Morticia.

"Lucas' parents are in town and I'm having dinner with them," replied Wednesday.

"Lucas? Lucas what?" her mother quizzed.

"Beineke."

"Beineke," repeated Morticia, "oh, and where are they from?"

"Ohio," Wednesday divulged.

"Ohio! How exotic!" she paused, "We'll have them over here."

"Bad idea!" exclaimed Wednesday turning finally to look at her mother.

"Not at all, new friends, a lovely dinner, and we'll play the game," listed Morticia.

"No mother," Wednesday tried to reason, "not the game!"

"Why not?" asked Morticia, "you should try listening to your mother more often, she does know best."

"Mum, please" begged Wednesday.

Morticia paused, "Wednesday, you don't usually act like this, what's come over you?"

"I'm in love," Wednesday cried out after a moments hesitation.

Morticia smiled coyly and nodded, "Okay, dear."

"Wait, what?!" asked Wednesday, shocked, "really?"

"Yes, that way when you break up, your father won't be so upset, he does get rather attached to your boyfriends after all."

"Thank you for your faith, Mother, but this is real, and Lucas and I aren't going to be breaking up, I assure you," replied Wednesday, growing irritated at her mother's undermining her.

"Okay," repeated Morticia, as she turned to Cleopatra and tickled the plant's chin.

Friday came much sooner than Wednesday had anticipated. She woke up that morning with a feeling of dread in her heart, and for once, it was not a pleasant feeling. She got dressed quickly and went downstairs, crossbow in tow.

"Good morning, Paloma," called Gomez as Wednesday passed him in the hall.

She turned to glare at him, not in the mood for pleasantries. Gomez smiled at his daughter as she passed, recognising her mood.

The girl made her way down the stairs and into the kitchen. She threw herself into one of the wooden chairs at the table. Morticia turned from the stove, where she was preparing some henbane tea for herself and her husband, when she heard the thump of her daughter sitting down.

"Good morning Darling," she said absentmindedly as she turned back the near boiling pot of water.

Wednesday watched her mother as she poured the water into the tea pot. The older woman lifted the two spouted tea pot and carried it to the table, where she left it to sit. At that moment Pugsley bolted into the kitchen, creating a chaotic atmosphere in the room that had only seconds earlier held one of serenity.

"Morning Mother," he said, standing on his toes to kiss Morticia on the cheek.

"Good morning Pugsley," she replied.

"Morning Wednes," he said boisterously, "oh, are you going hunting today, can I come?" he asked, noticing the crossbow that was hanging on the back of his sister's chair.

Wednesday frowned at him. Pugsley ignored her and opened the pantry door, pulling out some mouldy bread.

He put two slices into the rusting toaster, "Want some Wednesday?"

Crossing her arms over her stomach, his sister shook her head, still frowning. Morticia turned to look at the girl.

"Are you feeling all right Wednesday?" she asked, concerned as she walked over to the girl.

She rested the back of her hand on her daughter's head for a moment, "You have a temperature, perhaps you should stay home tonight?"

"No!" protested Wednesday, speaking at last.

At that moment Gomez walked into the kitchen, "What's this?" he asked, walking over to his slightly shocked looking wife and wrapping his arms gently around her waist.

"Wednesday's got a temperature," replied Morticia.

"No I don't, she just doesn't want me to go out tonight," Wednesday grouched.

Gomez let go of his wife and felt his daughter's head. It was indeed slightly above room temperature.

"You do," Gomez agreed with his wife, "Where are you planning on going Paloma?"

Wednesday grabbed her bow and attempted to storm out of the room.

"Answer your father dear," said Morticia.

Wednesday glared at her mother, she wheeled around back towards the door, straight into Lurch. She cried out in pain and shock as she slammed her nose on the brick-like structure of their butler. Without hesitation Morticia pulled a ziplock bag of frozen yak from the ice box and brought it to her daughter. Pressing it against the girl's nose she guided her back to the table and sat her down.

"Hold that there, you don't want to it to be swollen when you meet Lucas' parents," Morticia instructed.

"Lucas?" asked Pugsley and Gomez simultaneously.

"That's a boy's name," said Gomez incredulously.

Wednesday groaned into the frozen piece of meat.

"Wednesday has a new beau," elaborated Morticia, "his parent's are in town."

"Why don't you invite them over here?" suggested Pugsley.

Wednesday glared at her brother, "Why do you think?" she spat.

Morticia peeled the slab of meat back from her daughter's face momentarily to examine her nose, "Should be fine," she said, ignoring her children's comments, "just leave that on a few more minutes."

"Wednesday can't be old enough to date," muttered Gomez, to no one in particular.

"She's growing up," Morticia replied.

Wednesday moaned and attempted to bury her face in her hands.

Wednesday checked her father's pocket watch at around twelve o'clock. She was out hunting, she had already bagged two pigeons. She still had six hours before she had to be at Lucas' apartment. She figured that she had plenty of time to keep hunting, so, deciding to skip lunch she picked up her bow, clipped the stolen fob back to her collar and resumed her activities.

Nearly crashing into her mother, Wednesday came running into the Addams Family Mansion covered in pigeon blood and dirt. She had tripped over a small tree stump and fallen down a ditch, on top of her three pigeons, which had covered her in blood as she rolled down the ditch.

"Wednesday, it's five o'clock," Morticia began to scold, then she noticed the state her daughter was in, "what happened?"

Wednesday shook her head and stormed past her mother, dropping the muddy pigeons at her mother's feet, "I'm going to have a shower."

Morticia picked up the filthy birds and pulled a noose hanging from the ceiling.

"You rang?"

"Yes Lurch, would you please take these to the kitchen and give them to Mama?" instructed Morticia.

The butler took the birds with a disgusted look on his face and carried them away.

Wednesday had showered and washed her hair as fast as she could. In the process of cleaning the dirt and blood from her face she noticed with horror that some of the blood was hers. Normally the girl would have found this to be a pleasant surprise, but she had a feeling that the gash on her forehead was not likely to agree with Lucas' parents.

There was a knock on the door, "Wednesday?" it was her mother.

"Come in," grumbled Wednesday.

Morticia walked in and observed her daughter for a moment. The girl was clad only in a towel.

"You do realise you have to be there at six right? You know that's thirty minutes from now?" asked Morticia, slightly amused.

"YES," Wednesday replied in irritation, she hesitated for a moment, then looked at her mother, "what do you think I should do about this?"

Morticia eyed the gash that her daughter was pointing at, "It's very becoming, but I take it that you want to hide it?"

Wednesday nodded, frowning at her mother.

Morticia led Wednesday over to the stool by the vanity and sat her down. She stared at the girl for a bit, before pulling some bobby pins from the drawer of the vanity. She fiddled with the girl's hair for a few moments.

"There."

Wednesday spun around to look in the mirror; her mother had positioned her hair expertly over the gash and pinned it to look vaguely like a side swept fringe. Wednesday nodded in approval.

"Good," said Morticia, "now hurry up and get dressed, you'll have to get Lurch to drive you, or you'll be late."

Wednesday came down the stairs in a yellow dress. Morticia and Gomez were waiting at the door to bid their daughter farewell, both of their faces could be read as extreme shock.

"What are you wearing?" asked Morticia in disgust.

"A dress," replied Wednesday, marginally embarrassed by her parents, but mostly annoyed.

"A yellow dress?" asked Morticia.

"Paloma, what happened?" asked Gomez, still in shock, "You look like a crime scene."

"Wednesday," instructed Morticia, "why don't you go back up stairs and put on something more appropriate."

"Mother," Wednesday snapped, "I've worn the same thing, everyday, for eighteen years."

"Yes," agreed Morticia, "we don't wear bright colours, bright colours are for people with no inner life, and no imagination."

"Mother, please," begged Wednesday, "I want Lucas' parents to like me."

"Querida, why don't we let her, just this once," suggested Gomez.

Morticia thought it over, "All right Darling."

"You sure?" asked Wednesday.

"Yes, you don't have time to change; now, Lurch is waiting in the car for you," replied Morticia.

Wednesday grabbed her coat from the hanger by the door and hurried outside, "Bye," she called over her shoulder.

Morticia and Gomez waved at their daughter.

"Make sure you use protection," called Morticia coyly, Gomez looked at his wife in horror.

Wednesday arrived at her boyfriend's apartment building ten minutes late. She bade a quick farewell to Lurch and hurried up the stairs leading to the apartment. She stopped briefly outside the door to compose herself. Then she knocked. The door was opened almost instantly. Ecstatic to see her love, she pulled him into a strong embrace, she was just about to commence a desperate snog when she was interrupted by a throaty cough behind Lucas.

She let go of him and smiled politely at the older couple who were staring at them, the woman seemed somewhat amused, the man however looked rather annoyed.

"Hi, I'm Wednesday," she stepped forward.

Lucas jumped between his girlfriend and his parents, "Di, this is my mother, Alice Beineke; and my father, Mal Beineke."

"Pleased to meet you," Wednesday curtsied slightly.

Lucas held back a laugh at how formal she was being, "My mom made dinner," he told her.

Wednesday's eyes widened. She and Lucas had already discussed the meal and it was planned that Lucas would be cooking, making sure that her food was extremely raw, and where he could manage it, off.

Alice spoke up, "I think it's nearly ready, I'll just go and check on it, Mal, would you please help me with the drinks?"

"Sure," replied Mal gruffly, he turned to Wednesday, "what'll you have? Wine?"

"Dad, she only eighteen," interrupted Lucas.

"It's all right," Wednesday stopped him, "I'm not driving," she smiled.

Mal walked into the kitchen mumbling to himself, "Practically a cradle snatcher."

Lucas and Wednesday were alone. Wednesday looked perplexed, Lucas looked amused.

"What's with the yellow?" he asked her.

"I wore it so your parents would like me," she replied.

With that she began to embrace him again.

"I'd ask you to take it off and burn it, but then that would leave you with nothing to put on instead," started Lucas.

"Would that be a problem?" interjected Wednesday.

"With my parents here? Especially my dad, I think, yes," replied Lucas.

The older couple walked back into the room.

"Dinner is ready," Alice announced.

Wednesday grimaced, but allowed Lucas to take her hand and lead her to the small table. Once everyone had sat down and been served, Alice attempted to begin the conversation.

"I like your dress Wednesday, yellow is my favourite colour, in fact-"

Lucas cut her off, "Mom, not one poem, please," he turned to Wednesday, "Mom likes to write poetry."

"Yes, Lucas isn't the only poet in the family," added Alice.

Wednesday smiled at the older woman meekly, not knowing what to say. She was finding that acting normal was harder than she had imagined.

Mal spoke up, "So, Wednesday, where did you attend high school?"

"Um," started Wednesday, "I didn't go to school, I was homeschooled."

"Really?" asked Alice with interest.

"Yes, well given the appalling conditions, my parents had originally put my brother and myself in public schooling…but they disagreed with some of the values they taught us, so…"

Alice nodded, "Mal didn't agree with what they were teaching Lucas at his first high school, so we had him pulled out of that one, but we put him another school, I don't think we'd be able to-"

Lucas cut his mother off again, "She knows Mom."

"I know everything," Wednesday whispered quietly to him.

"So, what do you plan on doing in the future Wednesday, college, a career?" asked Lucas' father.

"Um, my parents are against, um working, actually," Wednesday cringed visibly at Mal's response.

"What? So I suppose you expect Lucas to do all of the work to support you," he turned to his son, "see, you can't support the two of you by writing freakin' poetry."

"My trust fund," started Lucas.

"We have family money," interrupted Wednesday, "there's more than enough to support us."

"You can't go through your whole life without doing anything, that's just lazy," retaliated Mal.

"It's not lazy!" Wednesday responded loudly, Lucas squeezed her hand gently under the table, in an attempt to calm her down.

"So!" interjected Alice, "How did you two meet anyway, Lucas, you've yet to divulge that story to us."

Wednesday remained silent, still seething at the rude way that Mr. Beineke was treating the young couple.

"Um, in Central Park," replied Lucas finally, "I was wandering around, in some of the thicker areas of plants, and a pigeon dropped at my feet,"

"A what?" asked Mal.

"A pigeon, keep up," snapped Wednesday.

"So anyway," continued Lucas, "I looked up, and there she was, Wednesday, with a crossbow," he smiled at her, she responded with a small smile, "and she looked like Dianna the Huntress."

"Who?" asked Mal.

"Dianna the Huntress," repeated Lucas.

"Isn't it illegal to shoot animals in Central Park?" asked Mal with a frown.

"I have a permit," replied Wednesday.

"So you live in New York then?" asked Alice, "do you live close to the park?"

"Pretty close, yes," replied Wednesday with a snort.

"Um," continued Lucas, "Wednesday lives _in_ the park actually."

"Is _that _legal? Are you homeless?" asked Mal.

"My ancestors refused to sell the land when they were constructing the park," replied Wednesday, "we live in an old mansion."

"Isn't that fascinating, Mal?" Alice asked her husband.

"Yes," grunted Mal.

"Why are you being such a tool Mal, can't we just have a nice dinner?"

Mal glared at his wife.

Wednesday felt uncomfortable, her parents very rarely disagreed, and she wasn't she how to react around married people that did. She stared at her untouched dinner.

Apparently Alice followed her line of sight, "Oh, dear, don't you like tuna bake?" she asked.

Wednesday looked up, with wide eyes, "Oh, um, I'm sorry, I'm just not that hungry, I had a big…" she paused, realising that she had had neither breakfast, nor lunch.

Reluctantly she picked up her fork and scooped up a small fraction of the food, she put it tenderly in her mouth and chewed, it felt as though she were chewing rubber. She swallowed, her throat felt dry. Her stomach growled in protest. She took a sip of her wine.

"It's very nice," she lied, "I'm sorry I'm not hungry enough to eat it all."

She honestly felt like she was about to spit it back up. Her body was definitely _not _used to having such foul things put in it. Lucas rubbed her arm, reassuring her.

Dinner continued in silence for a few more moments. Then Wednesday jumped up so fast that she knocked her chair over, she ran to the bathroom and threw up the mouthful of food. She was still dry heaving when Lucas came into the bathroom. He rubbed her back in circles as she hunched over the toilet.

She turned around and moaned into his chest, "Could this get any worse?" she asked him.

Lucas chuckled, "I'm sorry my parents are so invasive," he paused, "and disagreeable, I'm counting down the days until they announce to me that they're going to get a divorce."

"They're in love," replied Wednesday, "just your dad doesn't know it, I bet if he spent a few hours with my father, he'd realise it."

"You think so?"

"Yes, how long until this evening ends?"

"Dessert, and then coffee, they usually leave then," replied Lucas.

"I hope so," replied Wednesday leaning into him.

They heard a shuffling outside, it was Mal and Alice. They could hear them whispering to each other.

"I bet she's pregnant," Mal muttered.

"Mal!"

"What, you saw the way they were eating each other's faces," replied Mal quietly.

"They're in love, it doesn't mean they're having sex."

"You know he's not your baby boy anymore, he's all grown up...and he's an idiot."

Wednesday looked at Lucas, who was blushing furiously. She laughed at him.

"Come on, I think your parents need to be sorted out," she stood up and opened the door.

She looked at the older couple, and then to Alice, "I'm sorry about that. I'm probably sick, I had a temperature this morning, Mother and Father didn't want me to go out tonight, but I insisted, I was so desperate to meet you."

"Oh, dear," replied Alice, feeling the girl's forehead, which was of course cold, "you do feel a bit clammy."

"Mom," said Lucas, "maybe you should go and get dessert?"

"Of course," replied Alice, releasing Wednesday and walking into the kitchen.

Mal stared suspiciously at the pair before walking back to the table and clearing the plates. Wednesday and Lucas sat down.

"This isn't going at all how I had planned it in my head," Wednesday whispered into his ear.

Lucas laughed, "I'm sorry that my parents are unpredictable."

"That's all right, I like unpredictable," replied Wednesday.

Alice came back to the table with a cake, and a tub of ice cream. Mal was carrying the bowls.

"I didn't know if you were feeling well enough yet, but, I brought you a bowl just in case," said Mal, attempting to be pleasant.

"Thank you, Mr. Beineke, but I think I'll pass," replied Wednesday.

Alice smiled at her husband.

The rest of the evening passed with no major calamities. The Beinekes and Wednesday soon found themselves seated around Lucas' coffee table, waiting for Lurch to come and pick the girl up. Alice was nearly asleep, she had wanted to go back to the hotel earlier, but Mal refused to leave Wednesday and Lucas alone in the apartment. It was half ten by the time someone knocked on the front door.

Lucas jumped up to answer it, Wednesday followed him.

A look of shock crossed Wednesday's face when she saw that it was not only Lurch who had come to pick her up, but also her parents.

They let themselves into the lounge room.

"Mr. and Mrs. Beineke," Gomez smiled, "Gomez Addams here, Morticia there," he pointed.

"Mal," replied Mal, "and my wife Alice."

"And you must be Lucas," said Morticia turning to look at the young couple, "he's quite a catch," she added, to Wednesday.

"Mother, please," started Wednesday.

"Well, I'm sorry we can't stay, but it is late, we just wanted to stop by, and meet the famous Lucas," said Gomez to the Beinekes.

"Father," Wednesday protested.

"Yes," continued Morticia, "How long are you in town for?" she asked.

"Until next Tuesday," replied Alice.

"Excellent, then we must insist that you come along for dinner, maybe Monday?" said Morticia.

"Of course, we'd love to," replied Alice.

"Mother," argued Wednesday.

"Ooh!" the older woman exclaimed, "and then we can play the game."

Wednesday groaned. Lucas leaned into her, so he could whisper into her ear, "Your parents seem nice."

"I thought I could avoid you having to meet them until the wedding," she whispered, even quieter.

"Come along, Paloma," said Gomez, "It's getting late, say goodnight, we'll wait in the car with Lurch."

With that the Addams parents left.

"Well, it's been lovely meeting you Wednesday," started Alice.

"Yeah, you too," replied Wednesday distracted.

"See you on Monday, I guess," said Mal.

"I'll walk you to your car," said Lucas.

The young couple exited the apartment, and walked down to the car park, where they kissed goodbye.

Wednesday slid into the backseat beside her parents, who were occupied with each other.

"So, Wednesday," started Morticia, freeing her lips from her husband's, "how did it go."

Wednesday groaned.

"Paloma?" asked Gomez, concerned.

"They thought I was pregnant," she muttered, embarrassed, but slightly amused.

"Why?" frowned Gomez.

"I threw up," she admitted.

"Wednesday, you shouldn't do that when you meet new people," reprimanded Morticia.

"I couldn't help it, Mrs. Beineke made the most disgusting thing that I've ever tasted," replied Wednesday, "I'm starving, I haven't eaten today."

"Paloma," started Gomez.

"I know," interrupted Morticia, as she pulled out a yak sandwich from under the seat, "I made this for your lunch, you didn't come home."

Wednesday gratefully grabbed the sandwich from her mother and began to devour it, "You have to promise me something."

"Anything, Paloma," said Gomez.

"Not so fast," Morticia told her husband, "promise what?"

"When they come over, can you please, please, give me just one normal night."

"Just as you say," replied Morticia, as she leaned back into the seat with a coy smile on her face.


End file.
